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164 LETTERS.
flocked round me, and showered eulogia and thanks upon
the little authoress, who curtsied and thanked and thanked
again. Baron A requested to be introduced to me.
Our mother was sitting the whole evening, hearing how the
Countess Sp ,a whole row of the ladies of the court,
and a great number of gentlemen, had been discussing my
“ Sketches,” and the merits thereof. The sensation which
the little book is creating is indeed ridiculous. It is the
regular souper-conversation all over the town (which, be it
said in parenthesis, does not mean much), and nota day
goes past without my hearing what has been said of it here
and there, and always in praise of it. In the booksellers’
shops, all the copies have been sold. Palmblad wrote a
few days ago, to say that he must print a second edition as
quickly as possible, and that for that purpose he must em-
ploy three compositors, because there is a desperate run.
upon his agent in Stockholm, by all the booksellers, for
more copies. I wonder how long this will last? It has
become, I am afraid, a mere matter of fashion — mais
nimporte !— but upon this matter of fashion I shall this
year earn three hundred thirty rix dollars, which is delight-
ful! Perhaps I shall in future reap as much severe criti-
cism as eulogy now. May it find me equally calm, or,
rather, indifferent ; but of that I am not quite sure.
Next winter, my dearest Charlotte, Agatha and I are
going to visit you. We intend taking the two rooms on
the ground floor, and we wish to board with you. May we
not do so? How pleasant it would be! But “homme
propose et Dieu dispose!”
Our little dumb boy has now closed his eyes. He died
after about a month’s decline. Peace be with him!
You have probably seen by the newspapers that the
Swedish Academy has awarded me a gold medal on ac-
count of my authorship. It would, perhaps, have been
possible to have warded off this honor, if the “ Afton-
bladet” had not trumpeted forth the news all over town,
before Franzén had spoken of it with my mother.
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